


A Hand Held

by CityEscape4



Category: RWBY
Genre: During Canon, F/F, I haven't seen Season 7(?) yet so I stuck with the end of Season 6, also i haven't written bumbleby in a hot minute so take this as you will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityEscape4/pseuds/CityEscape4
Summary: Yang’s appreciative of the prosthetic arm General Ironwood gifted her, that much is true. But for all the advanced tech that Atlas’ best had access to, she still resented the fact that she couldn’tfeelanything anymore.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 1
Kudos: 60





	A Hand Held

**Author's Note:**

> Written as response to an ask on my writing tumblr

Yang’s appreciative of the prosthetic arm General Ironwood gifted her, that much is true. But for all the advanced tech that Atlas’ best had access to, she still resented the fact that she couldn’t feel anything anymore.

She missed the feeling of a punch connecting with a foe, the feeling of her hand in her hair, (and it not getting tangled in the nooks and crannies of the mechanics of the prosthetic), the feeling of comfort her scroll provided when she played a video game with Ruby. But most importantly?

She wanted to _feel_ Blake’s hand in hers.

They’re sitting in the airship on the way to Atlas; everyone is asleep save Maria, Qrow, and Yang.

Blake’s head is resting on Yang’s shoulder, and she’s sleeping soundlessly, much to Yang’s relief. She was worried her faunus partner would have nightmares after their run-in with Adam, after what transpired. Though to be fair, she knows Blake worried the same about her.

Yang takes the time to look around, taking in the sight of her other friends sleeping. Ren and Nora are sitting together on the floor, though Nora is less sitting and more laying, curled up and snoring somewhat as her head rests in Ren’s lap. Ren himself is sitting cross-legged with a slight hunch, like he fell asleep watching over Nora, his arms folded as he sleeps as silently as Blake.

Yang’s eyes turn to Jaune, who’s near the cockpit, sitting in the floor by himself, in a position nearly identical to Ren’s. His legs are crossed, his arms are folded, but instead of a Nora in his lap, he has his shield flat on his lap, his sword propped up next to him against the wall.

Purple eyes then glance over to Ruby, who’s sitting on one of the benches. She’s surrounded on either side; Weiss on her left, and Oscar on her right and both people have their heads on her respective shoulders. Ruby’s head is leaned back, leaning against neither Weiss nor Oscar. Yang holds back a snicker at the sound of Ruby talking incoherently in her sleep, though she hears Qrow let out a gentle chuckle. She then hears him be questioned by Maria, and the two begin talking softly, as not to wake the sleeping teens behind them.

With a slight sigh, Yang rests her head against Blake’s, and flexes the fingers on her right arm.

She feels nothing.

She just hears the near silent whir of mechanics as they register the impulses from her brain telling her prosthetic how to move.

Again, she flexes her fingers. Nothing.

Her lips form a tight, thin line as she huffs and curls her hand into a fist.

Nothing.

A low growl escapes Yang, and she curls her hand into a fist again. And again. And again and again and again and aga–

“Yang?”

The sound of Blake’s tired voice snaps her out of her trance, and she feels the pressure where Blake’s head once was lift. Yang looks to Blake, who’s looking back at her concernedly. There’s a muted look of shame in Yang’s eyes, and after a moment, she looks away.

An uneasy quiet settles between them, one that Yang desperately wishes wasn’t so loud in its silence, and it takes Blake’s hand on her shoulder to again call her from her thoughts, to bring her back down to Earth.

Their eyes meet, and Blake prompts Yang to look down; Yang follows her gaze, and she smiles sadly at the sight of Blake’s hand in hers.

“Yang,” Blake’s voice is gentle, and Yang can hear that Maria and Qrow have stopped talking. “Talk to me.”

Yang exhales slowly through her nose, and gently squeezes Blake’s hand, only to frown slightly as she sees - not feels - Blake return the action.

“I just…” Yang runs her free hand through her hair, feels her blonde tresses through her fingers, and shakes her head. “I’m just still getting used to the arm, I guess.” Blake’s quiet at that, and Yang immediately feels guilty. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s fine.”

“No, really, I-”

_“Yang.”_

The insistence in Blake’s voice calls Yang to look up at her, and there’s no guilt in her eyes, no upset. There is worry though, and its enough to give Yang pause. “We’re in this together, remember?” Blake’s hand on Yang’s shoulder moves down to join her other hand, clasping Yang’s prosthetic hand. “You can talk to me.”

Yang moves her free hand, placing it atop one of Blake’s. “Yeah.” Its warm and soft and comforting, and Yang leans in and leans her head against Blake’s, reveling in something as simple as her touch. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> i had no clue how to end this I'm sorry


End file.
